


It would complicate the situation

by skeilig



Series: They say love makes you crazy [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, M/M, actually it's not that complicated it's rebound sex, i don't know what this is and neither do they!, not casual sex but it's not a Thing, not quite a one-night stand but it's not NOT that, not quite friends with benefits either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22440256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeilig/pseuds/skeilig
Summary: It’s hard to know what to say to a friend who has just proposed to his girlfriend of nine months in front of her entire family and subsequently been turned down.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Eddie Kaspbrak
Series: They say love makes you crazy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1614733
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	It would complicate the situation

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so. This fic takes place in the universe of my Crazy Ex-Girlfriend AU, following from those characterizations and circumstances, but it’s not a missing scene, it’s just… fanfic of my own fanfic. (It’s 2020 and this is the energy I’m trying to put into the world.) You don’t have to read the CXGF fic to get this, everything should be set up fine, but just… FYI. 
> 
> title from the CXGF song “We should definitely not have sex right now” 

The drive back from Santa Barbara is long and mostly quiet. It’s hard to know what to say to a friend who has just proposed to his girlfriend of nine months in front of her entire family and subsequently been turned down. 

Bill sits in the passenger seat, head resting against the window and arms crossed over his chest. Eddie focuses on driving, the radio humming at low volume, blending in with the road noise. 

After Bill got down on one knee—at the dinner table, with Audra’s parents and sister and a selection of aunts and uncles and cousins as witness—and after Audra said, “Can we talk?” the two went outside. Through the glass sliding door to the patio, the rest of the Phillips family and Eddie—who was beginning to regret accepting the invite—could clearly see them and could hear most of what they were saying. Everyone pointedly avoided eye contact with each other and picked away at their slices of pie, forks clinking against the plate-wear.

The single word that Eddie recalls most clearly is ‘ambush,’ when Audra used it. That really set Bill off.

Finally, the two returned to the dining room. Bill asked Eddie for a ride back to L.A. that night. Audra would be staying with her parents. 

When Bill slid into the passenger seat and shut the door, Eddie asked, “Did you… break up?”

Bill raked his hands over his face. “I don’t know.”

A few minutes later, while Eddie drove down the winding roads out of the hills, Bill snapped, without preamble, “Thanks for your bullshit advice, by the way. Real helpful.” 

Eddie shot him a started look. “What advice?” 

“You were, like, encouraging me…” Bill’s anger already seemed to have faded. 

“Hey, I didn’t tell you to propose to her out of nowhere, Bill. And in front of her family? That’s way too much pressure.” 

Neither of them spoke again until Eddie took the exit toward Bill’s apartment. 

Now, Bill breaks the silence to ask, “Can we get a drink or something? I… don’t really wanna go home yet.” 

“I don’t know if any bars are open since it’s… Thanksgiving and all,” Eddie says. He’s planning on leaving it at that, but Bill slumps in his chair and looks so dejected that it breaks Eddie’s heart—even if the entire situation is his own fault. So, he tacks on, “But, hey, I have drinks at my place.”

Eddie makes them each a strong gin and tonic and they sit on his couch. Bill takes his first sip and hisses, “Ahh,” and then takes a longer drink, settling into it. He cradles his glass against his chest and turns his head toward Eddie. “Sorry for bringing you along to that disaster.”

“Well, Audra was the one who invited me.”

Bill barks a laugh. “Right. I hope you two can still be friends.”

Eddie thinks Bill is being a little fatalistic, but now isn’t the best time for a pep talk so he lets him wallow. Bill finishes his drink and Eddie makes him another.

“At least I don’t have to hang around her family anymore,” Bill says later, cresting with some defiant anger. “Her mom’s kind of a bitch.” Only a second later he backs down, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t… say that— But you know, I really thought that was gonna work out? I would’ve had to sit through uncomfortable holidays for the rest of my _life_. As if I haven’t had enough of that shit already. And Grace was trying to… adopt you, or something, just to make me feel bad… Audra won’t fucking hear it when I complain to her, either.”

Eddie nods, just listening, and gives his glass a swirl. 

“Sorry,” Bill says then, grimacing. “It’s not your ff-fault. You’re just so fucking great, probably everyone wants to adopt you.” 

“You know…” Eddie starts slowly, smiling. “When we were kids, I was… sort of… in love with you.” He gives a cautious glance to Bill, who only looks back at him, face blank, smiling faintly. There’s no hint of aggravation on his features anymore, so Eddie keeps going. “I don’t think I realized it until I was older, maybe even after we stopped talking, but it was definitely… there.”

“When we were kids, huh?”

Eddie nods. 

“What about… more recently?”

Eddie sighs, acting a little put-upon. Truth is, he doesn’t mind confessing too much. “There might have been some… element of that, when I saw you again.” 

“Yeah?” Bill shifts in his seat so his thigh brushes against Eddie’s. “When you saw me in New York?”

“You, uh.” Eddie clears his throat. His heart starts to beat faster. “I recognized you immediately. But… you grew up well.” 

Bill sets his glass down on the coffee table with a deafening _clink_ before he leans back and throws his arm around the couch, behind Eddie’s shoulders. An alarm sounds distantly in Eddie’s head. 

“You grew up well, too,” Bill says softly, and he looks at Eddie’s body as he says it, at his chest, and lower. 

Eddie swallows. “Bill.” 

“Mm?” Bill looks back up to his face, his eyes lagging, trailing up his body and neck. 

“What are you doing?” The question is not discouraging; the opposite in fact, voice soft and leading. His mind is almost entirely blank and his skin feels unbearably warm. 

Bill leans in closer and then his hand is on the back on Eddie’s neck, lighter than his touch usually is, but his fingertips press in insistently. “Eddie,” he says. “I think you’re great.” 

It’s not the words so much as how he says them; Eddie closes the gap and kisses him. They start with a few dry pecks, breathing against each other, testing it out. Eddie’s hand hovers under Bill’s jaw. 

Then Eddie pulls back. “Yeah?” he prompts, searching Bill’s face. He knows what this is, and he’s okay with it, but he doesn't know how to communicate that. 

Bill nods and surges forward to kiss him again, needier this time; his tongue slips against Eddie’s teeth. So, Eddie parts his lips and lets Bill lick into his mouth, tasting the sharp piney tang of gin. Eddie threads his fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck and then—gives a sharp tug down. Bill gasps as his throat is exposed and Eddie watches as he doesn’t fight the position. Chest rising and falling, he stays still, chin lifted and watching Eddie in return. 

Whatever read he thought he had on Bill, this is way better. 

Eddie leans in slowly to kiss first under his jaw and then tugs away his collar to suck at the base of his throat. Bill’s hands scrabble against Eddie’s back and in his hair and in the space of time that Eddie realizes he’s getting hard, and then considers that that’s probably the line in the sand that makes this a _Thing_ —and oh fuck, is he about to have sex with his childhood crush?—he’s fully hard. 

Bill begins to recline against the couch armrest and Eddie follows him down. The position is awkward at first, as Eddie props himself up on one hand and shifts his knees, but then Bill spreads his legs and Eddie settles between them. And he finds that Bill is hard, too, pressing insistently against his abdomen. 

“Keep kissing my neck,” Bill whispers, and Eddie is only too happy to oblige. Bill squirms and fidgets under him, sliding down further until his head is flat on the couch. He doesn’t know how happy Bill is going to be with a neck full of hickies tomorrow—quite the post-breakup look—but he seems to be very happy right now with the the way Eddie scrapes his teeth against his throat and mouths at his collarbone. Bill’s hands clutch at his back again and then travel down his spine to grab Eddie’s ass and pull him in closer, grinding together. 

Eddie sighs and drops his forehead to Bill’s chest. He thinks there are maybe a few things he should say. He wants Bill to know he understands what this means. That it’s not a beginning as much as an end, and that it’s certainly a one-time thing. It’s consummation and closure of whatever confusing, decades-spanning connection they have. And Bill obviously needs some attention right now, and Eddie lives to please. 

Instead of saying any of that, Eddie lifts his head and asks, “What do you want me to do?” 

Bill’s face is flushed. “Can you… c-can you finger me?”

“Fuck.” Eddie kisses him, quick and open-mouthed. “Yes. Let’s go upstairs.” 

Eddie retrieves his supplies from the closet and a towel to protect the bed from the worst of it. Meanwhile, Bill peels off his shirt and jeans and reclines in Eddie’s bed, wearing black boxer-briefs and white socks, a hand lazily behind his head. Eddie is still fully dressed himself, if a bit disheveled. 

He discards his sweater in the direction of his dresser, leaves the bottle of lube on the bedside table for now, and crawls into bed. He runs a hand down Bill’s lean chest and kisses him slowly. He keeps inching his hand down over Bill’s bare stomach until he reaches the waistband of his underwear. 

Then Bill’s index finger hooks into the collar of Eddie’s cotton undershirt and tugs. “Take this off.” 

Eddie sits up to discard his shirt and slacks while he’s at it, and settles back in on his side next to Bill. 

Eddie picks up where he left off and palms at Bill’s erection through his underwear. After a moment, Bill mirrors his actions, maybe unsure about touching Eddie too much, so Eddie grinds against his hand in an attempt to encourage him. But once Eddie slips his hand inside Bill’s underwear, he becomes too distracted to do much for Eddie anyway, hips twitching and breath coming fast. 

“Ready?” Eddie murmurs against Bill’s forehead. He nods. When Eddie withdraws his hand, Bill eagerly shimmies out of his underwear. Eddie sits up on his knees to reach for the bedside table. Bill watching him, he uncaps the lube. “Have you done this before?”

Bill answers, nonchalant and a bit coy, “Once or twice.”

“To yourself or… did someone else…?”

“Yes.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Yes,” is all Bill says, and he rolls onto his stomach. 

He’s propped up on his elbows, the curve of his lower back enticing. The new angle reveals a tattoo on his shoulder, a quote in script writing. “Oh, I like this.” Eddie bends to press his lips to it. 

“Its, uh… from a book. That… that I used to read to my brother.”

Eddie freezes the hand that was trailing down Bill’s back. “Oh…”

“Sorry,” Bill says, throwing him a regretful look. “Sh-should have a moratorium on any dead brother mentions when we’re… you know.” 

“Yeah, I’ll say,” Eddie agrees awkwardly. He doesn’t continue his journey down Bill’s spine, leaving his hand resting lightly below a shoulder blade. “Bill…”

Bill rolls over onto his back to more easily look up at Eddie. It’s not necessarily a better position for a conversation since Bill is still naked, but Eddie keeps his gaze on his face. Bill gives him a guilty smile and says, “I ruined the moment.”

Eddie launches into the speech that’s been running through his head for the past twenty or so minutes: “I’m okay with this.”

Bill smiles patiently. “I’m okay with this, too.”

Eddie continues, the words pouring out, “I don’t have any expectations. I know this is a one-time thing and I’m very okay with just having fun tonight and I don’t have any lingering feelings that will make this messy or weird.”

Bill raises his eyebrows. He reaches to rub Eddie’s knee. “I think it’s going to be messy regardless.”

Eddie snorts. “Is that a—”

“Wasn’t a sex joke, b-but I can see how it came across that way.” Bill’s crinkly-eyed smile is contagious. “I meant, w-we’re friends. I just proposed to my girlfriend, like four hours ago. Let’s not kid ourselves about the m-mm-messiness of this.” 

“Shit.” Eddie’s eyes are wide. “You’re right, we can’t do this.” 

“We’re already doing this!” Bill protests. “You were _just_ giving me a handjob, Eddie.” 

Eddie sits back on his heels, heart thudding in his chest for less pleasant reasons. “Are you and Audra even broken up? For real? What does this mean to you? Are you not straight?” 

Bill is laughing, which is slightly infuriating. He throws his hands up and says, “I don’t know, I don’t know! I just like kissing you. I want you to touch me. I want to have a fun, messy time. Sex joke intended. That’s my only proposal.”

Eddie cracks a smile and Bill groans as he seems to realize the less-than-ideal word choice. Eddie says, “Well, I can’t let you go 0 for 2 in one night.” 

“Fuck you,” Bill laughs as Eddie crawls over him again. 

They kiss for a while to reset the momentum, get back out of their heads. When Eddie reaches between them, it lasts barely a minute before Bill stops him, says, “Eyes on the prize,” and rolls onto his stomach again. 

Eddie really needs to know what Bill’s fingering backstory is. Maybe another time he can get a few more drinks in him and get it out of him. He skips the build-up this time, re-lubing his fingers and pressing in with one. 

Bill’s reaction is immediate and so gratifying. He exhales like it’s been punched out of him and drops his head to the bed, the lines of his shoulder blades sharpening. 

Eddie’s not sure what exactly Bill is looking for here, and he doesn’t want to cross a line by going too fast or rough. So he starts with a slow slide, his other hand on Bill’s hip, guiding and encouraging the involuntary way he begins to rock back and forth on his knees. 

When Bill’s hand reaches for his own cock, Eddie is quick to intervene.

With two points of stimulation now, Bill loses whatever composure remained. One hand clutches at the sheets and his body pitches forward. “Fuck, fuck, Eddie, _fuck_.”

“You’re so vocal,” Eddie breathes, amazed. And it goes right to Eddie’s dick; he rocks against Bill’s thigh, still restrained in his underwear but finding some relief. 

“Sorry— fu-uck. _Eddie_.”

“Don’t apologize.” Eddie bows over him to say against his ear, “I like it.” Bill bites the heel of his own hand. 

Eddie runs his thumb over the head of his cock and tightens his grip; when Bill comes, his body tenses and he gasps, “Fuck,” and his back arches out. Eddie buries his fingers into him and strokes him through it. 

Bill laying loose beside him, Eddie finally gets out of his own underwear and squeezes out a bit more lube into the palm of his hand. Eddie is so painfully hard that he groans when he finally wraps a hand around his dick. Bill rolls onto his side and meets his eyes briefly before his gaze flickers down. He licks his lips as Eddie begins to pump his hand. 

“This won’t— ah, this won’t take long,” Eddie says through gritted teeth. Especially not with Bill watching him, but he doesn’t say that. When Bill starts to sit up and shift closer to him, Eddie freezes. Bill reaches for his wrist—Eddie pulls his hand away—and closes his fist around the base of his cock. His movements are slow but deliberate. 

“Angle’s different,” he mutters as he gives a few exploratory strokes. 

It’s definitely too light for the point that Eddie is at, but he tightens his fingers in the sheets by his side and tries not to let on. 

Then Bill starts lowering his head (“Oh, shit.”) and takes Eddie into his mouth (“Oh, _shit_.”).

Eddie lasts longer than he expects to. Bill switches between his hand and mouth a few times, treating the whole thing a little experimentally, which Eddie thinks maybe shouldn’t turn him on—but it does. He really likes the reminder that Bill has never done this before, and yeah he’s probably not as straight as he thought he was, and yeah human sexuality is complicated or whatever, but right now Eddie isn’t thinking about any of that. He’s just thinking that _his straight friend is sucking his dick_ , and that’s been fantasy fodder for decades. 

Eddie gasps a warning before he’s too close to the edge; Bill has proven himself pretty adventurous, but it’s still common decency. When Eddie comes into his hand, legs shaking, the relief is almost agonizing. It’s been a long time since he’s been this riled up, and even though he’s usually silent, he can’t stop the whine that escapes his throat. 

Through his haze, Eddie notices when Bill wipes his hand on the sheets before flopping down beside him. Whatever. He’ll have to wash the sheets anyway. 

And the thought of laundry gets him fully back into his own head, before he has the chance to enjoy the afterglow. Because _what now?_

He glances over at Bill, cautiously, and Bill smiles at him with his usual lazy confidence. Eddie thinks commenting on the quality of the sex makes this a little too much of a _Thing_ —even if the sex was, objectively, pretty good—so he doesn’t say that. Also, he’s not sure he wants to invite Bill’s critique on his own performance. This is already starting to feel mortifying, laying here naked and drying. He definitely shouldn’t kiss him or touch him again, speaking of making it a _Thing_. And god, he can’t say anything about _what this means_ or _what happens now_ , without walking back his promise that this won’t be messy. 

So, Eddie doesn’t say anything. 

After a moment, Bill stretches and looks up at the ceiling and muses, “Is it weird that I’m hungry again?” 

Eddie blinks. Maybe it _is_ that easy and he was just overthinking it. “Uh… no?” 

Bill twists and reaches for the floor. He comes back up a second later with his cell phone. “I wonder if anything’s open right now.” 

In the end, they get dressed and Eddie takes them through a Jack-in-the-Box drive-through. Bill buys them each a burger and they eat them while Eddie drives Bill home. When he gets out of the car, Bill smiles at him and says, “Goodnight,” but doesn’t say much more. 

Back home, Eddie strips the sheets and puts on fresh ones and takes off his clothes again and collapses into bed. Before he falls asleep, he types out a purposefully context-devoid text to Stan: _So… I just hooked up with Bill…_ and sends it, already smiling at the way Stan will probably react, and definitely expecting a call to wake him up in four or five hours. 

That will probably help him contextualize the experience. For now, he tries to stop dwelling on it and closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Stan: I fucking _told you_ Bill isn’t straight!  
> This is so self-indulgent and makes me want to like, re-write the entire CXGF fic from this scene on lmao.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
